Changes and Sameness
With the onset of the autumnal weather, out came the fall decorations (including some Halloween items like the string of pumpkin lights currently adorning the railing of our front porch). Also with this seasonal change in schematic decor came a little bit of my wife's OCD with regard to "minimalizing" in our home. Unfortunately, such an impulse was frustrated by two large factors: we're a books home and the books ain't going anywhere anytime soon; and we're a toys home, and not even Anna can bring herself to part with some of the girls' toys. But she did manage to rearrange some of the furniture and to get rid of two end tables. That means, for me, that "my chair" (in which I do much of my reading, grading papers, and falling asleep) has moved across the room from the northwest corner to the northeast corner and the wall whereon are our icons and the faux mantle on which sits other icons, the vigil lamp, prayer ropes and other devotional detritus.
It certainly feels different to sit there with the icons quite literally looming down on you. Brings you to attention in a way you might not otherwise be brought. But such attentiveness is a good thing. Oh, and my view of the television is now blocked--and that is another good thing for those times when one of us has a desire for entertainment or football and the other has a desire for (always relative) "silence."
But in the midst of this difference was a bit of the sameness. This morning, after praying morning prayers and reading the Scriptures and the Rule, I was doing some reading on the Fathers, and Anna brought Delaina out to me. I sat there holding her for probably half an hour before I looked at the clock and realized I needed to start getting ready for the day. There in the morning silence, with the lamp down low and the vigil lamp burning, I smiled at her and she smiled back. It reminded me of the same sorts of mornings with Sofie when she was only three months old. I signed the cross on her and thanked God for his goodness to me.
And after many months, Sofie has decided that I can again be the sole parent responsible for putting her to bed. For the past three months, with the upheaval surrounding Delaina's birth, hosting family, and travel, Sofie's bedtime routine has been much more irregular than regular, though we fight to maintain the bedtime liturgy. We read stories just like we used to (though now we often do two books instead of just one, and they revolve around Click, Clack, Moo: Cows that Type, We're Going on a Bear Hunt, Kitten's First Full Moon, or Knuffle Bunny, in that order of preference). We pray just like we used to. And Sofie, most of the time, kisses the icons just like we used to. But now we play classical music instead of Daddy singing Church hymns. And now I sit by her bedside for a few minutes while Bach plays, instead of rocking her and putting her in her crib.
Except for last night. Last night Sofie wanted to be rocked. It had been so long, I'd forgotten how big she'd gotten. She no longer fits comfortably cradled in my arms across my lap. She's getting too tall. But we rocked while the music played and she eventually just melted into sleep. I put her to bed, in her "big girl bed" (a toddler bed we've borrowed from a family at church), signed the cross over her and walked quietly out of the room.
Just like we used to do.
Posted by Clifton at October 10, 2005 11:56 AM | TrackBack